


"Lance Becomes a Psychic"

by Queenscene2



Series: It's Always Sunny on Planet Arus (Dotu Crack Fics) [2]
Category: Voltron: Lion Force (1984)
Genre: Crack, Gen, I'm in the story, Money laundering, Psychic Abilities, You can't judge me this is a crack fic, because I love Lance ok, flirting with random women lmao, like pure crack cocaine, like that episode from ATLA, made with love by your crack fic dealer, where Toph just scams all these people, yeah this is basically the same thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:28:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25196197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queenscene2/pseuds/Queenscene2
Summary: Pidge comes to Lance with an idea on how he can fully embrace his powers of perception.A crack fic
Relationships: Pidge & Lance
Series: It's Always Sunny on Planet Arus (Dotu Crack Fics) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1825153
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	"Lance Becomes a Psychic"

**Author's Note:**

> ***This is a crack fic. Do not take anything in this fic seriously***
> 
> Sort of based on the episode: "Envoy from the Galaxy Garrison"

“Don’t like him.” Lance said, pointing to the back of a Galaxy Garrison general’s head. The pilots were attending a Galaxy Alliance ball and were standing around with nothing to do. Lance was on his third martini and Keith was making sure his best friend didn’t do anything stupid.

“How would you know? He hasn’t even introduced himself yet.” Keith said, giving Lance a look. Lance turned his back on Keith, as he did when he didn’t want to argue.

“I can just tell.” He said sharply. “I can tell by the way he stands.” Keith raised an eyebrow. “Stands? What the hell, dude! That man is a general for the Galaxy Garrison! He is a good man with good morals. Besides, what does that even mean? Posture has nothing to do with a man’s character. Ugh, you’re so judgmental.”

Lance made a face, tired of all the mansplaining…or commander-splaining, as it were. “Am not! I’m right, trust me!” He retorted. “You’ll see! This guy will completely take over our force, make us do something stupid, and dismantle Voltron.” He chugged down the rest of his martini and popped the olive in his mouth.

“Okay, that’s enough alcohol for you. It’s getting to you.” Keith said, snatching his martini glass out of his hands. Lance wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “You’ll see!” he repeated. “I’m _always_ right.”

~

“You were right.” Keith admitted flatly, after the general commanded that they didn’t use Voltron for their attack. “Hah!” Lance scoffed with his arms crossed. “I told you so.” Keith was eventually able to convince the general to use their method of attack instead, and victory was once again theirs.

“Geez, you were right again for pegging that general as an arrogant scumbag.” Hunk said in awe. “You must be psychic.” Lance stuck his nose in the air haughtily. “I know, right?” Allura was beyond impressed. “How do you do it?” she asked.

“I was born with it, baby girl. You can’t get this power by _practicing_ it. You just…have it. Like my gorgeous hair.” He explained, even though in actuality, that’s exactly how he got it...through practice. His father, a retired detective, had taught him how to pick up people’s nervous tics and how to spot someone who is untrustworthy when Lance was just a little boy. He couldn’t tell the princess that though, obviously.

The five went into the castle, when Pidge stopped Lance. “Hey, Lance! I just got the best idea ever.” Lance turned around to see the small Gremlin smile up at him. “What is it, Shorty?”

“We can open up our own psychic booth downtown!” he exclaimed. Lance furrowed his brows. “Why would we do that?” he asked. “Uh…money? Girls? Duh!” Pidge put his hands behind his head as he saw his older brother figure do when _he_ had a smart idea.

Lance smirked. “Alright buddy, you got a deal. You can be my manager.” He said. He shook his hand. “Deal! I’m gonna go get my booth!” Pidge started to run down the hall. He returned sometime later with a cardboard booth and a rusty stool. “Here! We can paint it to say “Brother Lance: Psychic Extraordinaire.”

Lance grinned. “Nice. Got anything else?” Pidge pulled out a stack of playing cards from his pocket. “We can pretend these are tarot cards.” He said. “Oooh! Also…” he pulled out a folded shirt from his boot…somehow. “We got merch!”

The shirt unfurled to show a T-Shirt with Lance’s face on it with the words “Psychic Extraordinaire” on it. “How the hell were you able to do that?” Lance asked, inspecting the blue shirt further. The picture that Pidge chose was not a very flattering one, as Lance had one eye closed, and his mouth was open a little too wide.

“I found a T-Shirt maker when I went dumpster diving with Hunk last weekend.” Pidge said casually. “I was looking for explosives, but I couldn’t find any.” Lance recalled Hunk and Pidge coming back in with grime and dirt caked all over their clothes. They got a pretty stern lecture from Nanny that day.

Lance didn’t really want to question further. He was just in it for the women and maybe some of the money. “Alright, well. Let’s get to work.”

~

The two set up their mediocre stand in the village square. Pidge made Lance wear one of his towels on his head and wear a velvet throw rug over his shoulders for “upping the wow factor” as Pidge had put it.

“Alright, now we just sit here and wait for costumers.” Pidge said. He pointed at a girl with brown hair. “Hey look! There’s someone now. Call out to her.” Pidge sat down inside the stand so that he wouldn’t be seen by the patrons.

“Hey there, beautiful.” Lance called out, amping his charm up to an 11. The girl turned and looked at him. Her face grew red as she saw him. She walked over. “Hey yourself.” She said with the same amount of charm.

“You want your palm read, Angel?” he purred. She giggled. “Sure, why not.” Pidge thought he was gonna puke.

The lady sat down in front of him and held out her palm. Lance took it and started to trace her hand lines with his fingers. “What’s your name?” he asked. “Rachel.” She replied. “Ah, yes. I already knew that from your life line.” Lance declared. She giggled. “You’re good.”

Lance took in a deep breath, pretending that he was connecting to the netherworld. “Ah yes, the spirits say that you will soon find your true love.” He said, totally hitting on her. She smiled. “Oh yeah? What else?”

“They also tell me that you will take one of these shirts home with you.” He said, pulling out one of them. The girl hummed flirtatiously. “Mmm. Wrong.” She said coyly. “I’d rather take _you_ home with me.”

Lance got redder than a thousand tomatoes. “Oh…well…” he squeaked out. He started to stand up. “In that case, let’s—" He felt a whack on his leg. “Focus!” Pidge hissed. Lance smiled. “I…uh…gotta work, but maybe later?” he asked.

The girl pulled out a pen and piece of paper and a 20 Arusian bill from her purse. She wrote something on the piece of paper and put that and the bill in Lance’s towel hat. “Call me.” She said, kissing his forehead. Lance’s legs felt like jelly. _Score!_ Lance thought dreamily.

Pidge snatched the bill from Lance’s head. “Score!” he said out loud. “This was the best idea ever.” He exclaimed. Lance was too busy daydreaming about what was to come with that girl. "Keep up the good work, buddy!” Pidge said whacking Lance’s back. “Thanks, Shorty.”

~

All day long, the boys had scammed people of all ages. Word had traveled fast, and many had come to buy their t-shirts, get their palms “read”, and get their fortune “told”.

“Oooo yes. The 6 of spades. You are definitely left handed, aren’t you, sir?” The old man grinned. “Yes! How did you know?!” Lance rubbed his temples. “The spirits said so.” He snapped out of it and held his hand out. “That will be 20 bucks.”

The man heartily slapped a 20 Arusian Bill in his hand and walked away. Pidge fell on his back and threw the money that they made up in the air. “Wooo! This is great! There’s about $2000 in here!” Lance grinned. This was such a good idea.

~

Meanwhile, Keith was out on patrol, looking for any signs of a Robeast attack. He made his way downtown, to the local village when something caught his eye.

It was a little girl with a t-shirt with Lance’s face on it. “What the hell…?” Keith muttered out loud. He shook his head, as he concluded that he didn’t really see what he thought he saw. His lack of sleep was getting to him.

He didn’t think much of it until he saw a middle age man walk down the road with the same shirt that Keith thought that he saw. It was confirmed now. That was Lance’s face on that shirt along with the words “Psychic Extraordinaire.” _Oh hell no._ Keith thought, a migraine suddenly developing. He stopped the guy. “Excuse me.” He said.

The man recognized him immediately. “Oh, Commander Keith! It’s amazing to see you! I’m a huge fan of yours and, well my daughter told me how she one d—”

“That’s great.” Keith snapped quickly, cutting him off. “Where did you get that?” he pointed at his shirt. The man looked down at his shirt. “Oh this! Oh well from the Lieutenant Commander’s new psychic booth in the town square! He is so gifted, you know, my daughter wanted—"

“Thanks.” Keith said, interrupting him once again. He quickly ran to the middle of the town square to see a group of people crowded around Lance’s shotty looking cardboard booth. He saw Pidge holding a big jar in front of the booth.

Keith got closer to see Lance reading from a…playing card? “Oh spirits of the deep!” he chanted loudly. “You have gifted this group of people with…the Jack of Clubs! Meaning that…they’re all going to have a great day today!”

Applause erupted from the crowd as Lance bowed. Keith rolled his eyes. Pidge then held out his large jar and smiled down as the people filled it up with bills and coins. Lance and Pidge then started to count it.

Keith approached the booth with a glare. Lance put his finger up to his temple. “Ah yes, I sense someone—”

He stood up quickly when he saw his best friend glare back at him. “What in the fresh hell do you two think you’re doing?” he asked angrily. The two were silent for a minute. “Uh…” Lance started.

Keith snatched up Lance’s towel hat. “Now it’s my turn to be psychic.” He snapped. He put the towel on his head, closed his eyes, put his fingers on his temples like Lance did. “You two are scamming innocent people into thinking that you’re psychic just so you could get money.” He opened his eyes and saw the kiss mark on Lance’s forehead. “…and girls, apparently.”

“Ha!” Lance scoffed. “That is not what we are doing _at all!_ ” Keith crossed his arms. “Then what ARE you doing?” Lance paused for a moment.

“Running.”

Lance pushed over the cardboard stand to slow Keith down and took off, leaving Pidge to grab the valuables. “Grab the number, _GRAB THE NUMBER!”_ Lance screamed at Pidge. He was not letting the opportunity of him getting with a girl pass. Pidge took off after Lance. He was gripping the jar of money with all of his might and laughing like a complete psycho.

“Get back here and clean this up…and come give people their money back!” Keith bellowed as he chased the two chaotic neutrals down the dirt path.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm wheezing rn this one is extra stupid™
> 
> I hope I made you laugh or feel...something. 
> 
> See you l8tr, beech.
> 
> Love,
> 
> Queenscene2


End file.
